


Cummy Tummy

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Burp Kink, Burping, Cum Bloating, Cum Inflation, Father and Son, Gay, M/M, POV Third Person, belly noises, cum belching, cum burp, cumflation, disgusting, eructo, father son incest, slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29889615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: your son comes home after another wild night with a tummy ache from chugging too much baby batter
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 22
Collections: anonymous





	Cummy Tummy

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this while super high and didnt reread it even once after writing so sorry if it's nonsense

The moment the OGBYN announced that you’d knocked your wife up with a boy, you had an image in your head of an All-American jock-turned-jarhead-turned-potent father, a boy who’d call you “sir” and who’d bring home tight jailbait for you to ogle, a man with a crew cut and a nice heavy cock to inject your DNA into some quality pussy so you could fuck them vicariously. Even when your wife ran off without announcement, you saw the bright side: a tough childhood makes a tough adult. Maybe you were too lax on the kid. Maybe that extra time you lost on all the mothering bullshit could’ve been spent on smashing his nose to the grindstone would’ve made all the difference.

You sit inside of your recliner, facing the TV with the scratch of broken pixels across one corner, bourbon bottle in hand but no glass in sight. It’s late, but you’re not waiting up for your son. He’ll return in the morning, naked but for his sneakers and another oversized football jersey for his collection, dried semen flaking off his thighs and raining down into the carpet. He’ll give you a big smooch on the cheek, giving the stubble there a lathe with his tongue that leaves you smeared with sperm-thickened saliva, and trot upstairs to unplug his ass in the shower and clog the drain with what pours out.

It’s not yet dawn, so you’re alarmed when you hear the scratching of the key digging for the keyhole on the front door. Just a second of thought helps you to untense. It’s obviously Daniel. You scrabble to get the cap back on your bottle and shove it into the compartment on the arm, not out of guilt but as a refusal to show weakness. The door closes, and you hear the soft sound of his soles on the hardwood.

You don’t look up when he leans down over the top of your chair and rests his chin in the cushion. He gives a barking little burp and then whines, “Daddy, my tummy hurts...”

You ignore him as much as you can. Making him work for it just makes him want it more, though. “Hey Daddy, I came home with panties. Are you proud of me? Wanna see? I’ll prove it.” And he traipses around between you and the TV and lifts the hem of a stranger’s shirt to bare his plump thighs and round hips, proving that his useless little cock is indeed shrouded behind panties.

“But look.” He lifts his shirt all the way off and tosses it to the side. His belly is distended out as if he’d swallowed a whole pumpkin. The skin shines, pulled taut. Still, it wobbles, a wave passing over the surface as the liquid sloshes inside. He frames it with his fingers like a stock photo of a pregnant woman. “I drank too many babies. I think I’m gonna get cum-booger poisoning.”

The movement stirs his guts, and it gives a complicated gurgle. You can hear the mass rising up his throat, and he doubles over so his face is point-blank in yours. You barely have time to close your eyes as his tongue lolls down past his chin and he blasts a steaming belch directly into your mouth, ajar in disgust.

“ _BREAAAUUH_ — _BRUOOOOAAAARRRAAAAP_!” He makes no attempt to point his face away throughout the full six-second roar. Instead, even when he manages to catch a breath, he pushes out a few more exclamatory burps, each which would have been masterful on their own. Your sinuses are sloshed with a scent of ripe semen stronger than if you’d simply snorted it yourself. Flecks of cum and drool spatter across your face. Finally, he pauses with a moan of satisfaction, exhaling. “Pwuuaaahh... _bwarrp_...that feels so fucking good...sorry about that, Daddy! I— _bruoorp_ —I— _brap_ —hold on...”

He grabs your hands and steers them to palm the sides of his cumgut, using them to press in and milk his belly upward, squeezing out gas trapped in the boiling bubbles of the gallon of sperm in his gut. It burbles and bitches, but nothing comes free.

“Oww it’s stuck...Daddy, help...” He crawls onto your lap, straddling your cock through your grey sweatpants. “Hewp...burp me like when I was a baby...”

And maybe that’s where it went wrong, back when he was small enough to lift by his wrists, and you would satisfy his need to suckle and your need to get sucked off. And just like now, his belly would get upset, and you’d pat him on the back while he burped up the frothy mess you’d inject down his soft little throat.

Expressionless, you oblige. You pat his back with one hand, finger hooked into his turgid, swollen boypussy to “keep him in place,” and encourage him, just to get the process over with. “Be a good boy for Daddy, baby. Do me a big burp so you’ll feel all better.”

He keens, rutting his gut up against you, his little cock grinding against your belly. You can feel the way his tight esophagus and full tummy wring and crawl, finally freeing a bubble so big, you can feel it roll up and out. It builds in volume, until it hits the back of his throat, where it blasts out with such pressure it makes your ear flap in the breeze. Your ears ring against the roar, while your skin beads with the condensing humidity. He’s riding your rock-hard cock through your clothes, pressing his fat pussy pucker full of his panties and your sweatpants soaked through with pre.

You didn’t picture things turning out this way. Not your son, belching up loogies of oatmeal-thick sperm, turned to a fucking pig in slop, barely literate but maintaining straight As through personal “favors” to the teachers, home early because he’d only been able to slurp down a few trillion sperm before his body began to protest the abuse. Not yourself, drowning in the stink of thirty or forty nuts, caring for your used-up condom of a son, feeling somehow cucked.

His trumpeting fades easily into a sustained moan of pleasure. He pants into your face, his tongue still lolling, dribbling regurgitated cum down into your lap. Your rub small, warm circles into the back of his shoulders. He smacks his lips and says, “That’s so much better...thank you, Daddy...I made a little room in my tummy, if you wanna...”

You grunt, neither a refusal nor a request, and he sinks down to the floor between your knees. He’s a loathsome little whore. But, he’s your son. And since there’s no hope of saving him now, you’re satisfied to just help him to feel good.


End file.
